


A Bloody Ear

by Python07



Series: If Looks Could Kill [12]
Category: Forever (TV), The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: AU, Angst, Crack Crossover, M/M, spoilers for ep 2.4: Emilie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:22:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7814077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Perales can't speak to the King, he will speak to Aurelian instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bloody Ear

**Author's Note:**

> Dialogue borrowed from ep 2.4: Emilie marked w/*

A bloody ear in a box. It was a crude, but effective, message Treville had to admit. The small size and the earring clued him in that it belonged to a woman, but no more than that.

Treville stood with Porthos and Athos outside the door to his quarters. He watched Perales pace. Perales looked around as if the devil himself would pop up from nowhere and drag him down to hell.

“He’s insisting that we move him somewhere safer,*” Porthos said.

Perales shifted and leaned against the wooden balcony beam. However, he couldn’t stay still. “He knows where I am.*”

“Who does?” Treville asked, trying to be patient. “What does this mean?*”

Perales lip curled up into a sneer. “It means my attempt to rid myself of a terrible menace has failed.*” 

“But you won’t tell us the exact nature of the threat,*” Athos said neutrally.

Perales shook his head and stepped closer to them. He tried to look at them imperiously, but it was ruined by the way his eyes darted around like a hunted rabbit’s. “If I am not permitted to speak to your king, bring me Padre Aurelian instead. I will speak with him.” 

Treville couldn’t help the edge in his voice as he demanded, “Why?”

“Because I would speak to a man who has the king’s ear,” Perales retorted hotly. He paused and looked at Treville significantly. “One who has not ruined his standing in court.”

Treville opened his mouth but abruptly shut it again. It was no secret that he was in disfavor with Louis. Perales was smart to want to speak to Aurelian instead. Still, seeing Aurelian reminded him of Richelieu and how bad they both let things get between them.

Treville could admit to himself that he should’ve listened. He should’ve tried to forgive. If the Queen could pardon Richelieu, he should’ve at least tried. But he’d been so hurt, so hurt and angry. He hadn’t been in a frame of mind to listen. His blood was up and he acted rashly in returning the coin. Then, when Porthos came back with that message that sounded more like the Cardinal than Armand, it poured more salt in the wounds.

“I’ll get him,” Porthos volunteered.

Treville blinked and mentally chided himself for getting sidetracked. “Very well,” he growled.

“I’ll be as quick as I can,” Porthos said as he trotted down the steps.

Perales walked back to the table. His hand shook as he snapped the box shut. He swallowed and said a quick prayer under his breath.

“I won’t leave your side. You have my word,” Athos told Perales. “Anyone who tries to get to you will have to go through me first.”

A little bit of the tension bled out of Perales’ shoulders but he looked far from comfortable. He nodded to Athos. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Treville opened the door to his office. “Would you care to wait inside, Ambassador?”

Perales looked around one more time before stepping inside. “Yes, I would rather not be in the open.”

Treville gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk while Athos came in and shut the door behind them. Treville settled in across from Perales and Athos was a silent sentinel by the door. “Is there anything we can get you to make you more comfortable?” Treville asked kindly.

Perales hugged his arms across his chest. “No.” He tried for a wry smile but it was more of a grimace. “I will not breathe easy again until I’m back in Spain.”

Just looking at the man, at the rigid way he held himself, Treville knew that pushing would be fruitless. One end of Treville’s mouth quirked up. “You said something about retiring to your lands in Valencia.”

Perales did manage the smile this time. “Oh, yes. The countryside is warm and beautiful. And the oranges…” he trailed off with a contented sigh.

“I believe the word you used was divine.”

Perales arched an eyebrow. “You don’t believe me,” he scoffed. Only part of the indignation was for show. “I will have to send you some.”

Treville chuckled. “That won’t be necessary.”

Perales laughed too. It was short lived but genuine. “I want to and then you will know the truth.”

They spent the next twenty minutes chatting about Perales’ lands and his plans for retirement. A knock interrupted Perales’ explanation of the newest growing techniques. He stiffened in his chair.

Athos peeked out and then opened the door. “It’s Father Aurelian.”

Perales jumped to his feet anxiously. “Padre.”

Aurelian came in. “You wanted to see me, Ambassador,” he returned politely.

“Yes. Captain, would you be kind enough to leave us?”

Treville stood. He leaned on the desk towards Perales and shook his head stubbornly. “No. I will know what’s going on.”

Perales shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He looked at Aurelian nervously. “That was not the agreement.”

“You said you wished to speak to Father Aurelian and one of my musketeers went to fetch him. I never said that I wouldn’t sit in.”

“Split hairs much, Captain?” Aurelian drawled.

“Yes, with a very sharp knife,” Treville shot back crisply. He didn’t wonder why he always had an impulse to punch Aurelian in the face. He just accepted it and forced himself not to act on it. “And thank you for coming,” he added flatly.

“It not often I have musketeers demanding my presence,” Aurelian said dryly. “I find I’m curious.”

Aurelian didn’t smirk but Treville could see that he wanted to in his eyes. He swallowed the crude response that sprung to his lips. Instead he grunted irritably, looked to Athos, and waved him out.

Athos inclined his head and told Perales, “I’ll be just outside.”

Perales took a deep breath and nodded. He pointed to the other chair in front of the desk. “Padre, please. We have much to discuss.”

Treville flopped back down. Five seconds in Aurelian’s presence and he was already under his skin. What did Richelieu ever see in Aurelian that was worthy of friendship and affection?

Aurelian eased down and gracefully arranged his robes around him. He looked attentive. “What is it?”

Perales sat, stiff and ready to jump to his feet again. He handed Aurelian the box. “I’m afraid there is an unholy monster in our midst.”

Aurelian opened the box. “Deus meus.” 

Treville didn’t take his eyes off Aurelian. It was only for a split second but the small lines around Aurelian’s eyes tightened, the muscles in his jaw clenched, and his knuckles turned white around the box. In the next blink, Aurelian was the mild, pious, and horrified man of God again.

“Poor child,” Aurelian said sadly and made the sign of the cross. “Who was she?”

Perales waved that off. “What does it matter? She’s paid for her failure. The monster will be after my blood next.”

Aurelian closed the box and briefly swept his thumb over the lid. He set it on the desk. “Who is this monster?”

If Treville didn’t know any better, he would’ve called it a caress. There was something almost tender in that small gesture. He grunted quietly and dismissed his own sentimentality.

Perales looked around one more time. Then his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Rochefort,” he whispered.

Suddenly, all of Treville’s focus was back on Perales. He sat forward. “Did you just say Rochefort?”

Perales swallowed. He let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Yes.”

Treville scowled. “He’s a Spanish spy.”

“Yes.” Perales wet his lips. He looked at Treville with wide, anguished eyes. “But he is mad. He is uncontrollable.”

“What does he want?”

“The Queen. He’s convinced that some day he will be king.”

Treville slammed his hands on his desk and jumped to his feet. “We must tell the King!”

Perales blanched as if he was going to be sick while Aurelian just looked on them both mildly. “Sit back down please, Captain,” Aurelian sighed. “We’re not finished.”

Treville reluctantly did so. He transferred his scowl to Aurelian, a much more deserving target. “What more in there to say?”

Aurelian ignored Treville. He put a reassuring hand on Perales’ shoulder. “Do you have proof of what you say?”

Perales nodded towards the box. “Besides that, no.”

Aurelian squeezed and his voice was gentle. “That’s not enough to sway the King.”

“Surely the Ambassador’s word,” Treville began.

Aurelian cut him off smoothly. “Would be against Rochefort’s word. Rochefort, the hero who’s returned to France after five years in a Spanish prison.” He took on a tone of exaggerated patience as if speaking to an unruly student. “Rochefort has the power and position right now. He’s First Minister in all but name. It will take more than the word of a Spaniard to bring him down. It will take concrete proof that the King cannot possibly ignore.”

Perales bowed his head. “I had hoped that with your influence…”

Aurelian squeezed Perales’ shoulder again. “No. I fear he would not believe me either.” He briefly paused and glanced at Treville. “There is only one man who could break Rochefort’s hold and, unfortunately, he’s dead.”

Treville looked away. He silently cursed Aurelian for bringing Richelieu up, for reminding him yet again that he wasn’t good enough. //I loved him too.//

“What can we do?” Perales cried. “Rochefort will not let me leave Paris alive.”

Before Treville or Aurelian could answer, there was a respectful knock. “Captain,” d’Artagnan called. “Orders from the palace.”

“Come in, d’Artagnan,” Treville called back.

d’Artagnan strode in and handed Treville the message. “From Rochefort.” He gave a slight bow, turned on his heel, and left again.

Treville quickly read the orders. “You’re returning to Madrid. I am to escort you personally to the carriage the King has provided for you.*”

Perales paled. He folded his shaking hands in his lap. “There is no carriage. He wants me out in the open where he can get rid of me.”

Aurelian tapped his chin in thought. “Rochefort doesn’t know that we know.” A slow smile appeared on his face. “We’ll just have to make him think that he’s succeeded.”


End file.
